Serendipitous
by beezyland
Summary: For the record: Kelly's decision to go to Houston Physical Therapy and Rehabilitation was not influenced by the fact that Nicky is in Dallas. She didn't even know the two cities were roughly 4 hours or 242 miles away. That's coincidence. Really. Nickelly


Disclaimer: I don't own anything. If I did, Jess and I would be getting paid for writing what we write, fasho. Oh yeah, and THIS would be CANNON! ;)

Spoilers: 02x15 Hungary Heart

A/N: This is inspired by a snippy **LCTD** comment and **Fairytale2328** encouragement via MIOBI Addicts Anonymous. It looks long, but it's still shorter than LCTD's last three MIOBI fics. (Jess, you freak). The fic is based off a comment Kelly made when the Rock girls ran into her at the airport. She said she was in Houston and in my head-cannon Nicky joined the Dallas Club. Enjoy!

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><p><strong>-XX-<strong>

**Serendipitous **

Nicky Russo was nowhere in her thoughts when Kelly chose Houston Physical Therapy and Rehabilitation. She would have gone to Houston whether or not Nicky Russo was in Dallas because the Houston facility has the best credentials in the country. She would never let a stupid boy be a deciding factor in a decision that could detrimentally affect her future. Though, now that she thinks about it, it won't hurt to have her former sex slave in the same state.

On the way to the airport, Marty grunts like he's having congestion problems and even worse, he looks at Kelly like he can read her thoughts and isn't pleased. Actually, if he could really read minds he'd probably freak out, yell at her a little, cancel her flight to Houston and make a few calls until he finds some secluded rehab-slash-convent. Kelly can't help the way her thoughts wander. Damn that Nicky Russo and those hands.

Marty grunts again and Kelly is annoyed. He's been acting this way ever since they were in his office and he laid out the three pamphlets in front of her, telling her those are the suggested facilities for her recovery and to choose wisely. Okay, maybe it goes further back to when he caught Nicky and Kelly making out in the weight room on a particularly unproductive day. At least then she had someone to share the blame with. Ever since Nicky ran off to Dallas, Kelly has been carrying the weight of Marty's disappointment all on her own.

Then there's that voice always nagging at her, saying Marty blames her for Nicky leaving.

"Be careful out there," Marty says beneath his breath.

"Right," Kelly says sarcastically, "Because I can't wait to run wild with my newfound freedom from you and the gym. I've already made a list. Unprotected sex with cowboys and, oh, maybe I'll try some crack."

She doesn't mean to make life hard on Marty, but it somehow just happens. Kelly just opens her mouth and the words come out. By the way he just sits there behind the wheel of his car, Marty looks desensitized to her sass. It's the only way anyone could really coexist with Kelly Parker.

Marty sighs exasperatedly. He does that a lot too. "Kelly, I'm only telling you to be careful because I know no one else will. I also know by 'cowboys' you mean Nicky Russo and by 'crack' you mean cortisone."

She rolls her eyes. Marty uses every chance he gets to bring up Kelly's unauthorized cortisone binge. She's been clean for months now. He needs to let it go already.

"Real nice, Marty," Kelly says dully. "You still don't trust me, I see."

"Trust is hard to earned in the first place, Parker. Breaking it, losing it and having to earn it back is even harder," Marty says. He would know. He still keeps a picture of the Rock Rebels in his office.

Kelly slides down in her chair, wishing someone else could have brought her to the airport. Alas, Marty is all she has. In turn, Kelly is all Marty has and she even feels a little bad abandoning him like this.

"Kelly, Nicky Russo is a good kid."

Okay, now she feels less bad. In fact, she doesn't feel bad for him at all.

"Seriously, Marty?" Kelly asks. "We're seriously having this conversation right now?"

"He's a good kid," Marty says again in a slightly louder voice. Kelly slouches even lower in her seat and stares out the window. "He's a fantastic gymnast with real potential and you're a distraction to him just as much as he's a distraction to you—"

"You're the one who insisted I be more welcoming," Kelly quickly reminds him. She makes her voice deeper in an imitation of Marty and goes on, "_Just invite him when you guys hang out. Eat lunch with him once in a while. It's not that hard. Parker, have a heart. Don't you feel a little sorry for the guy_?"

"Yeah, well, it seems you took 'more welcoming' a little far there," Marty says. Man, he was pissed when he walked in on them halfway to second base. "I'm saying all this because, yeah, you and Nicky were good for each other. You were less of a brat when he was around. You made him open up. But you and Nicky were also really bad for each other too."

"I know. I was there. It was stupid and never happening again. Now, if you want it so friggin' bad I'll even promise to be careful if we stop talking about this," and by that she means _I won't relentlessly search Craigslist till I score cortisone_, "and you promise not to spend all your time at that trashy night club, feeding singles through disgusting stripper ass floss. Really, Marty, pull yourself together."

He looks ready to question where she gets her info, but luckily, he doesn't. Kelly is relieved. She doesn't want to have to explain how she forced Nicky to steak out the trashy club, looking to catch her dad stumbling out. Imagine both their surprise when it was Marty doing the stumbling.

"And what am I supposed to do instead?" Marty asks. "Hanging out at DE, train _Carter Anderson_?"

"Feed singles through _his_ disgusting ass floss." Kelly smiles. She doesn't question the reluctance in her coach's voice at the mention of the latest castoff from the Rock. It seems Carter Anderson is an unworthy replacement for everyone.

When they reach Denver International Airport, Marty pulls up to the curb and Kelly gets out. He goes to get her rolling suitcase from the trunk and when he rounds the side of the car Kelly surprises him with a hug. She hugs him with her eyes shut tight and words she could never say.

"Be good," he says firmly. "Send me a postcard. The more stereotypically Texan the better."

"If I remember," Kelly says. She always turns uncharacteristically soft after her and Marty have one of their stupid 'serious moments' that affect her more than she'll ever admit. "Bye coach."

Kelly takes hold of the handle of her rolling suitcase and starts to turn away.

Marty grunts _again_. "242 miles."

Kelly stops and looks over her shoulder. "What?"

"242 miles and 4-something hours. That is, without traffic," Marty says. He looks conflicted as he says this, scratching his head. "That's the distance between Houston and Dallas."

Kelly rolls her eyes as if she doesn't already know. She does. She Googled it.

"Not worth the trip," Kelly says decisively.

Marty chuckles. "Hey, when you see Russo, tell him I said hi and don't forget our little talk!"

There's only one thing that annoys Kelly more than when Marty thinks he's right and that's when he turns out to actually be right.

…

"_I'm saying all this because, yeah, you and Nicky were good for each other…"_

And they had been. Even Kelly felt it.

Nicky stood up for her when some of the other Denver Elitists were talking shit right in front of her. This guy (who ranked fifteenth at Nationals) called Kelly a frigid bitch after his many failed attempts to hit on her and stoic Nicky Russo pipes in with a, "Has it ever occurred to you that she doesn't like you or just doesn't like jerks in general?" and the guy got upset, nearly caused a scene but Kelly had been mildly impressed and so she kissed him. That was the second time they kissed.

The first time Kelly had surprised him mid-babble, grabbed his neck and smothered his lips with hers in the front seat of her car. They had been talking or arguing or discussing things in rising voices. One of the DE guys had tried to coerce them into a game of spin the bottle. Both declined for different reasons. Kelly hasn't ever had mono and doesn't want it. Nicky doesn't believe in cheap kisses. So Kelly kissed him to prove that something as meaningless as lips against lips doesn't have to be a big, life-changing experience even if it left them both a little flustered afterward and desperate to do it again.

From there it was only natural that things escalated.

"_But you and Nicky were also really bad for each other too."_

That had been even more apparent especially with how Nicky's dad supplied him with cortisone and in turn Nicky supplied Kelly.

…

At first Kelly is super excited for rehab. With the first visit, she goes through medical history and a physical examination with a licensed top-of-the-line therapist and they discuss her goals, steppingstones to Worlds, of course. They make a plan for different hands-on techniques, soft tissue work, therapeutic exercises, different types of stimulation and massage. It sounds amazing and at first it is.

Being the apple-of-the-NGO's-eye, Kelly has sessions five out of seven days of the week, which is more than the average person in need of assistance. When she's not at the rehab clinic then she's in her hotel suite a couple blocks away and she's bored out of her fucking mind.

One day while Kelly is doing one of her home exercises, the one with the stupid giant rubber band, some cheesy soap opera acting as white noise, she gets a stupid text from a stupid boy.

_I'm in the lobby. Field trip time. –N _

Confused, Kelly has to read it over another two times. Carelessly tossing the rubber band aside, Kelly calls Nicky and he picks up after two rings.

"Hello?"

"What the hell are you talking about, Russo?"

"Hey," Nicky says. Even after all this time he's still so good at ignoring her bitchy tendencies. "I'm waiting downstairs. I figured you were going crazy alone here and I want to bring you somewhere."

"I'm not crazy."

"But you are lonely?"

"I'm hanging up now."

"Kelly Parker, hear me out," Nicky sighs, "I skipped practice and drove all the way here to see you."

"And what do you expect me to do about it?"

"Come. With. Me."

"Eww," Kelly spits, "perv."

"What? Wait! I—I didn't—"

A small smile forms on her face, imagining that fluttered expression on his pretty face. To be honest, she really does want to see his face. "Only because I don't have anything better to do," Kelly says airily. "Oh, and you might as well take the elevator up and wait here. I still need to get ready."

Sounding nervous, Nicky says, "No. It's cool. I'll, uh, I'll just wait down here."

Kelly laughs, seeing the perfect opportunity to tease him and seizing it. "Aww, I get it," she coos into the receiver, "You. Me. A bed in the next room. Too tempting for you, Nick?"

Nicky just mutters a, "Pretty much," and the call drops.

Kelly's first thought: _RUDE_. _The little bitch hung up on me._

Her second thought: _Shit. He was _so _serious_.

Shaking it off, Kelly goes to get ready. No, she isn't extra careful when touching up her makeup and changes outfits three times because of Nicky Russo. She's Kelly Fucking Parker. She has to be paparazzi-ready around the clock. It's all about her image. It isn't until she's on her way downstairs, looking at her reflection in the mirror that she realizes she's wearing purple.

Nicky told her once that wearing purple brought out the green and the flecks of gold in her hazel eyes. Kelly considers going upstairs to change, but that would be admitting she cares what he thinks and she isn't quite ready for that.

When they meet up, Kelly takes note of how he seems more muscular than she remembers and his hair seems shorter. They exchange awkward hellos, no hug, no mauling each other, no touching at all. They kind of just stare for a long moment before he leads her to the front and valet goes to get his car.

"So how's the ankle?" Nicky asks as they're driving to God-knows-where. He glances at her and Kelly realizes she's been staring at him the entire time. A little unsettled, Kelly looks out the window and sees it's raining. Marty would be upset how un-stereotypically Texan it is. "Kelly, did you hear me?"

"What? Yeah," she says distractedly. "It's fine."

"Liar," Nicky says. He looks at her in this weird way that makes her face feel hot. He used to do this a lot back in Denver and Kelly used to like to secretly think he's only ever looked at her like that.

But, being Kelly, she plays the role and glares at him. "So how's Dallas?"

"Amazing."

Kelly snickers, relaxing a bit. "Liar."

"And we used to think we had nothing in common," Nicky says with a lighter tone of voice. "Truthfully...Dallas isn't anything like Denver or the Rock. The Rock was all drama, drama, drama and Denver was like training-slash-freshman year in college-slash-see how many things we could do without getting caught by RA Marty. Dallas…Dallas is what I'd imagine boot camp to be like."

"Why, Nicholas, does that mean you actually managed to not fall for and/or have no-strings sex with one of your new gym buddies?" Kelly tries her damnedest to make it sound like teasing rather than the interrogation she wants.

"I have not," he answers. "Does that surprise you?"

"Not really. The Dallas Club is the lesbo capital of US gymnastics," Kelly replies. She continues to stare at the thick drops of rain collecting on the window. "So where are we going?"

"You'll see..."

Nicky takes her to a restaurant for lunch where they banter in between pauses of silence. He pays and she lets him and then they get back into his car. They go back to her hotel and when he's walking her through the lobby, Kelly turns on him with suspicion.

"So you drove five hours to take me to lunch?" Kelly asks suspiciously.

"It was more like four and—"

"Not the point, Russo. What was this? You thought that the second I saw you I'd throw myself at you? That buying me lunch is going to get you into my pants?" Kelly asks, lingering by the elevator.

"That's not it."

"Then what?"

"I felt bad," he says.

Nothing makes Kelly's blood boil like being pitied. She jabs her finger against the elevator button at least a dozen times. "Well, stop. I don't care what you think about me."

"Could you hold on?" His voice is more demanding than asking and that only further pisses Kelly off. "I felt bad because if it wasn't for me you wouldn't have reinjured your ankle and you wouldn't even have to be here right now."

Kelly stops tapping her foot impatiently and watches him carefully. The elevator doors open and close and they're still staring at one another.

"Don't be stupid," she says. "Are you the one who fucked up her dismount? No. It was all me."

"But I was giving you cortisone for months. Cortisone, it gives you pain control, sure, but it also keeps you from healing. It's just another mask and I knew that. I knew the risk you were taking and I convinced myself I didn't care. I just let you go and then your body became dependent on it, you missed a dose and look what happened. Kelly, you missed the Worlds team trial," Nicky argues. "I felt bad so I left Denver. I felt even worse for just up and leaving so…here I am."

This entire time Kelly hasn't blamed Nicky once. It was ultimately her decision and as everyone knows, Kelly Parker is unstoppable when she sets her sights on something. Lately, her therapist has been schooling her on the dangers of excessive cortisone usage. She even took her to an old folk's home to visit and talk to a few people who used cortisone when they were young athletes and now, from all the cartilage degeneration, have hip and knee replacements and overall joint problems. It was a scare tactic and it worked.

"So you left Denver Elite because of me?" Kelly asks.

"I left because I was ashamed of what I did to you," he says. "It was stupid and I'm sorry."

Kelly takes a step closer to him. "And you drove here today…?"

"To apologize," Nicky says. "It's the least I could do and you deserve it."

"Hmm." Kelly presses the elevator button again and purses her lips. "As sweet as this is, Nick, it isn't your fault. I knew what I was doing and I'm not a bitch baby so I know how to own up to my mistakes. Consider your guilty conscience cleared." The elevator doors slide open and Kelly walks in, giving Nicky an expectant look. "Are you coming or what?"

Nicky blinks confusedly. "What? Why?"

She gives him a cheeky look. "Well, you only drove four-whatever hours. I figure we might as well make it worth it."

Nicky just stares at her, as if trying to figure out if she's serious or just teasing before he makes a move and ends up looking like an idiot. When the doors start to close, Nicky bolts forward to stop it. He walks into the elevator and Kelly rounds her arms around his neck and whispers, "Good choice," before kissing him.

…

So they start hooking up _again_ and it's scary this time. It's scary because it has to mean something. The distance makes it mean something. No one in their right mind would drive more than four hours every two weeks or so just for a bootycall. And it isn't just sex and running off this time. It's spending weekends together and going out to eat and watching movies. If Kelly didn't like it so much she'd probably be freaking out about it.

Kelly wouldn't ever tell him this, but when he's singing in the shower she likes to sit right outside the bathroom door and just listen. His voice might be enhanced by the acoustics of the bathroom and a little muffled by the sound of the running water, but it's so soothing. Usually Kelly can't recognize the song but that isn't what matters. Nick has a nice voice and she's oddly drawn to it. As soon as the singing stops and the water turns off Kelly quickly stands and goes to busy herself with something on the other end of the suite.

Then one night when they're lying together in bed, her head on his chest and his fingers beneath his shirt that she's wearing, tracing up and down her spine, sending shivers all throughout her body, Kelly groans, "Sing to me."

Nicky's eyes widen, but he smiles, figuring she's kidding. "Tough luck, Parks. I don't sing."

Kelly groans again, turning onto her stomach. She tilts her head so she can look at him, stretching so her palm slides across his hard abdomen, the side of her hand barely grazing the elastic of his boxers. Nicky tenses for a second but then relaxes again and looks into her eyes.

"Kelly, I don't—"

"Please...?"

"Did you just say—"

"Nick."

Kelly pokes out her lips in a pout and combs her fingers through his hair. She traces his jaw with her fingertips and Nicky presses his hand over hers. Taking a deep breath, Nicky starts to softly sing. "I'll keep you my dirty little secret..."

When she hears that, Kelly narrows her eyes and pinches Nicky's arm and he starts to laugh. He flips them so he's on top and starts to tickle her. Kelly squirms and tries to fight him off. Her eyes crinkle with every half-laugh half-shriek. Nicky leans down to tell her to be quiet or else the neighbors are going to file a complaint but by his smile the last thing he wants is for her to stop.

"Nick, quit it! Let go!"

When he finally does, Nicky stays hovering over her and pins her arms to her sides. He brings his face to hers and kisses her lips. Just a light, sweet kiss and then he pulls away.

"Why don't you let anyone see you like this?" Nicky asks her. Kelly shifts, grinding her hips into his. She hopes it'll be enough to distract him and by the way he looks away, expression darkening, it works. Kelly slides her arm out from his loose grasp and she grabs a hold of his neck, pulling his face closer.

"Because you're the only one I let in," Kelly replies with so much honesty it hurts. When the way he's looking at her becomes too much, Kelly pushes him off and looks across the room. "In my bed…pants…whatever. Sorry I'm not a bigger whore."

"You're not a whore. At all," Nicky says. It really is nice to hear it aloud. "And that's not what I meant. Why don't you let anyone see you like this? Like…really smiling and really laughing, not smiling like you know something you shouldn't or laughing at someone else's expense? You don't have to be this high and mighty super bitch. It's okay to be you."

"Sure, but not in the spotlight and this Texas stint aside, I am constantly in the spotlight," Kelly explains. She's never seen it as a burden, but with the way Nicky looks, she kind of thinks she should. "That's what gymnastics is. Three parts skill, two parts image and one part luck." Nicky can't argue with that though he does look a tad bit disappointed and Kelly reassuringly touches his cheek. "I let you see me," she says tenderly. "And that's all that matters, right?"

Kelly hates how she lets his opinion mean so much to her, but that hate disappears and is replaced with something else, something dizzying when Nicky grins and kisses her again. Later that night as Kelly lies in his arms, Nicky strokes his fingers through her hair and sings her to sleep.

...

Bored one day, Kelly peruses the hotel gift shop and finds a postcard that can only be described as "stereotypically Texan" and it costs like a quarter so she buys it. Addressing it to Denver Elite, Kelly makes the message short and simple. Dropping it in the nearest lobby mailbox, it makes Kelly queasy just thinking about the smug satisfaction it's going to bring Marty.

The postcard reads:

Marty,

Russo says hi.

-Kelly

He'll be smug, knowing he was right, but probably leave her a lengthy voicemail lecturing her about how she never listens to him and how he'll be super pissed if Nicky distracts her from her recovery. No doubt Kelly will be annoyed, but it brings about her own sense of satisfaction—being able to piss off Marty states away—and the consequences seem worth it.

...

In a matter of months, Kelly's ankle fully heals and she graduates the rehabilitation program. In the post-rehab stage, under the watchful eye of her physical therapist, Kelly gets back into a real gym and starts real training. Her therapist tells her that she's ready to go back to Denver, but Kelly disagrees, wanting to be sure she's 100% back before going home. She doesn't want to go back to Denver Elite just to do something stupid and provoke the injury all over again. Kelly refuses to believe Nicky factored into this decision too, but that one might be a lie.

Then the call comes.

Kelly puts her phone down on her hotel bed and walks out to the living room where Nicky is sitting and reading the newspaper. He lifts an eyebrow at her and Kelly explains, "That was the NGO on the phone."

"Yeah?"

Nicky looks concerned and a smile breaks out across Kelly's face.

"They're flying me out to Budapest for the International meet!"

"Seriously?"

Kelly is so excited she doesn't even have the time to think up something snarky to say. She sees the way Nicky's face lights up before he sweeps her up in his arms and twirls her in a circle. When Nicky sets her back on her feet, they pull away and Kelly doesn't seem as happy as she was a minute ago.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

Kelly nervously nibbles at her bottom lip as she falls back onto the sofa and Nicky sits beside her. "I...I haven't competed since before my ankle got all messed up."

"From what I gathered, you were more than fine at the exhibition in Denver," Nicky reminds her. "Your ankle seems fine. Even better than before. I don't know why you even came back for rehab after that..."

Nicky lets his words trail off because the way she's looking at him is all _I came back and prolong leaving or you, you fucking idiot._ Kelly can't say it and Nicky doesn't know how to respond.

"Well, um," Nicky clears his throat, "Obviously the NGO has faith in you which is more than can be said about the actual Worlds team."

"Duh." The struggle is clear on Kelly's face, but she too readily moves on. "The Rock Rebels lost to friggin' Pinewood. The NGO is desperate for an ace in the hole i.e. me. Ha. Friggin' Pinewood. They need to invent a new word more pathetic than pathetic just to describe that." Kelly sniggers. Nicky gives her a warning look and Kelly rolls her eyes. "I mean, how unfortunate for them."

"I don't buy it, but I appreciate the effort," Nicky says. He hooks his arm around her hips and Kelly leans into him. "It's definitely nicer than what the Dallas girls said about the Pinewood incident."

Kelly scrunched her nose. "Did you just call me _nice_? Nick, gross."

"_Nicer_," Nicky says. "There's a distinct difference."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," Nicky says. "Nice? You? Unimaginable. Nicer? Nicer, you can do and I like."

Nicky tilts his head, about to kiss her, but Kelly stops him.

"You know," she says quietly, "if everything goes well in Budapest then I'll be going straight back to Denver from there. I don't even know if I know how to live like that anymore. Back to serious training. Back to dealing with my manager face-to-face. Back to upholding my image."

"Back to Carter," Nicky says teasingly.

"Hmm, yeah, yum," Kelly says dreamily. Nicky scowls and pulls away but Kelly digs her fingers into the sleeve of his shirt and pulls him back. "I'm kidding, loser. I thought you got better at lightening the hell up."

"I got better at other things too..."

He's about to kiss her again, but Kelly moves away.

Nicky groans. "You have a thing for yanking me around, don't you?"

"Obvi," Kelly laughs. "I'm gonna miss that."

Nicky looks at her coyly. "I'm going to miss you."

For once, she opens her mouth and the words don't just come tumbling out. Kelly is sure she has the stupidest expression on her face as she stares at him. God. She wants him. She wants him so much. She wants every moment for the rest of her life to be just like this one, but she knows it isn't possible. Denver is 800 miles from Dallas and fuck you. So what if she Googled that too? It's not a crime to be curious.

"Well," Kelly says after a pause. She moves her hand up his shoulder to rest at nape of his neck. "You can come visit Denver sometime and there's Worlds. Maybe I'll even make out with you...but only after we both kick ass and medal, of course."

"Obvi," Nicky says, partly mocking her, but mostly teasing. Kelly smiles, one of her special just-for-Nick smiles.

"Fair warning though," she says in her professional bitch voice. "At Worlds there's no 'nicer' Kelly Parker. I'm making all your ex-girlfriends cry like little bitches."

Nicky laughs, pressing his forehead against hers. "So is that what you are?" Nicky asks all low and husky. "Are you my girlfriend, Kelly Parker?" She shies away at his question and Nicky looks like he regrets asking. "Hey. I was just…joking. Don't worry about it. It was stupid to even ask."

"Nick, it's just...the distance..."

"More than 4 hours," Nicky says knowingly. "Well, when do you leave for Hungary?"

"Two days from now," she says. Part of her can't wait to leave, to get her career back on track, but the other part, the stupid and in fucking love part, keeps trying to argue that there's nowhere she'd rather be than with this stupid boy.

"Well," Nicky smirks, "then we should make the most of it."

She smiles bigger than she's ever smiled before because this is exactly how it should be. This is all either of them is ready for. No labels or definitions or words that inevitably make things messy. No confusion. No angst. Just blissful moments and hope for the future.

Kelly thinks Nicky is a complete dork for driving four hours to Houston just to see her off at the airport. Before walking through the security checkpoint, going to make her comeback official, Kelly is sure to kiss Nicky one more time and whisper that she'll miss him too.

* * *

><p><span>AN: It always blows my mind how we can take two characters who have never ever had a scene together on the show and twist their imaginary love affair so many different ways. Haha So much fun to write. Anyways, reviews are greatly appreciated!

xoxo


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